


same hands

by llgf



Category: Good Behavior (US TV)
Genre: Bubble Bath, Drug Addiction, F/M, Letty kills someone and Javier is trying to comfort her, Mentions of drugs, Murder, mentions of guns and murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 05:43:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12074664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llgf/pseuds/llgf
Summary: “I pulled the trigger,” she whispers in the crook of his neck.





	same hands

**Author's Note:**

> for [firefeufuego](http://archiveofourown.org/users/firefeufuego/pseuds/firefeufuego)
> 
> thanks to [garglyswoof](http://archiveofourown.org/users/garglyswoof/pseuds/garglyswoof) for her beta work!
> 
> this is the first time I write for them because I only recently started Good Behavior and I am obsessed. I would love to know what you think.

He has already ripped the label off of two beer bottles when she arrives in their motel room. She immediately pushes the yellow, stained curtains open to look at the parking lot. The motel sign decorates the room with a pink gleam, but she's expecting blue and red flashing lights soon - she can almost hear them. 

“I -,” Letty starts, but the words get stuck in her throat, she feels like she's going to retch. She's not looking at their parked car, because she can almost see the corpse, wrapped in a trash bag, a bullet in his head. 

He bites his lower lip, like he does so often. He wants to reach out, lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but he's afraid it might have been too much for her this time. “Did you get it?” Javier asks, his legs shaking, begging him to stand up and bring her closer. 

Letty turns around with an unamused huff, tugging off her short blond wig. She wants to rub off her makeup and claw at her skin, she's itching to unscrew a bottle and drink the whole thing. 

“Yes I did,” she says almost disbelievingly. 

Letty rummages through her little purse and hands him the phone. It has a case with a beer label on it, and it belongs to a rotting corpse in Javier’s trunk. 

As soon as Javier takes it, Letty tugs off the latex gloves itching her skin. Javier puts the phone in his back pocket, and his other hand, still holding hers, lets go to stroke up her arm until he can bring his palm flat between her shoulder blades. “That's good. It's done now,” he murmurs in her ear. 

“No, it's not,” Letty says with a bit of anger, because this is a scenario she knows all too well, but this time she's starring as the main actress. She starts fidgeting, debating over wanting him to let go or wanting him closer. “I held the gun that - “ she starts, as if she needs to explain, and Javier can only put his hand on her neck and kiss her forehead. 

“You did what was right.”

She humorlessly laughs, “Did I?”

Javier studies her face and shrugs, as if it was her choice to make, to believe whether or not it was the right thing to do. “You saved me.”

Letty closes her eyes and wets her lips, letting him guide her head to his shoulder. She wonders how such a terrible man, with terrible hands, can be so soft, his eyes warm and his embrace soothing, but she still fists his shirt and asks him to hold her harder. 

“I pulled the trigger,” she whispers in the crook of his neck. 

Javier takes her hand, and brings her fingers to his lips, kissing her index - the one she used - the murderer. Then it's her other fingers, those that held the gun, then it's her palm. Letty follows him with her gaze until he looks back at her when he kisses her palm, once, then twice. 

She had a phone number noted there once.

“This is a whole new line I just crossed,” Letty sobs. While he's kissing her wrist, she closes her eyes and murmurs, “There was meth.”

Javier snaps his head up, concerned. He’s looking at her eyes, her pupils, her lips. He brings his hand to her cheek, his thumb outlining her jaw - maybe he wants to check her teeth, scrutinize her eyes. 

“On the bedside table. I looked at it for ten minutes straight.” There were blood stains on the little package, on the sheets and the wall, but she could pretend they are just flowers, poppies growing out in the dusty room, it would be easier if she’d let herself take one bite of the white crystals, to be high enough. “And I thought, might as well smoke the whole thing, and snort the rest.” 

“But you didn’t.”

She shakes her head, her hands trembling violently. She tries to clench them into fists, but she has no strength left. 

“I didn't. But for a minute I saw a way out. An OD and I'd just be another body in your trunk.”

Letty spits her guilt out, because she deserves the same treatment as her victim, and this thought is gnawing at her brain. 

Javier's holding her wrist a bit harder, his jaw clenched, and his other hand at the nape of her neck forces her to look at him. He has a grave expression - he almost looks mad with the pink light accentuating his traits, his frown. “You can't say that. I won't allow it.”

Letty sobs and closes her eyes. 

“I have a life debt now. I will not let you kill yourself. Ever. Do you understand?”

She opens her eyes again. She hears Christian's words,  _ do not let him go _ , but what makes her worthy to live now? She’s just killed a man. 

“I need you,” he says slowly. 

It's selfish, almost cruel, what he says to her. She's walking on a thin thread, but he's down here ready to catch her. 

She knows how to destroy her life. It's easy, and she's the first victim. How many times had she looked in the mirror and murmured to her reflection -  _ you cunt, you little piece of shit _ \- while there was still smoke in her room? 

Taking her own life has been easy; the scary part is how easy it is to take  _ his  _ too. 

Still, she hadn’t taken the drug, she hadn’t even touched it. She thought about it, she thought about burning the guilt along with the crystals, but she thought about Javier too - a rifle pointed at him, on his knees on the purple carpet, his hands up in surrender. She'd pulled the trigger. 

Letty nods. She has Jacob, she has him. He needs her, and she needs him. He has seen too many corpses, but she refuses to ever see his. She has lived all her life with guilt, she'll just have to make some room on her shoulders for a bigger chunk. She nods again. 

“Good.”

_ He was beating his wife and son. He was a bad man.  _ Letty hears him say. 

“I won't let you feel guilty. He would have died anyway.”

She lets him unzip her dress as he kisses her shoulder. He sits her down on the bed, gets rid of her shoes. Is he so careful with a corpse? - a treacherous thought.

He goes to the bathroom and she hears water filling the tub. 

“Undress,” Javier says, while he tosses her dress, her shoes and his own clothes in a trash bag. 

Letty obeys unquestioningly. She unclasps her bra and slides her underwear down her legs. 

“In the bathtub.”

The bathtub is full of clear water but the paint is peeled, the tiles are old and broken. It brings old memories of dirty rooms and smoke. “Do you mind if I add bubbles?” she asks, her voice unsteady. Bubbles are not going to wash away her sins, but she might as well try to scrub the blood off her face. 

“Sure.”

She grabs the little plastic bottle with another motel name on it and empties it. She just stares at the forming bubbles, and soon the water overflows, curtains of water falling on the floor, running to her feet. Letty quickly turns off the water and gets in, a wide puddle left on the white tiles. 

She holds her knees to her chest, bringing the lavender-scented foam closer. There are some blood stains on her arm, and she can't rub them off, somehow. 

“You’re not coming?”

Javier enters the bathroom, his hands on his hips, wearing only his underwear, and Letty slides to the other side of the tub, leaving room for him to join her. “Wait -” he holds a finger up and disappears for a minute. He comes back with little bottles of cheap wine and a cigarette packet. 

He leaves them on the tub edge before tugging off his underwear. Letty doesn't shy away and watches him getting in the bath. 

It's small, and they have to find a way to both fit. Letty is between his legs, her knees still to her chest and they're face-to-face. 

Javier opens a mini bottle and hands it to her.She looks at the bottle like it's the forbidden fruit. 

“Wine is fine,” Javier says. 

This wine is, in fact, not fine, it's grainy and bitter, but it gets to her head fast and makes her forget the guilt, the sound and the colors, so she takes another gulp. It's empty soon enough, she opens another one. She leaves a trail of empty bottles on the edge of the tub. 

Javier is looking at her closely, holding his own bottle. His hand hanging out of the tub, before he brings the two-dollar bottle to his lips. He passes his tongue on his teeth with a frowning face. Letty knows the wine is disgusting but it does the job. 

“Can I have a cigarette?”

Javier brings it to her lips and lights it up. 

“Thank you,” she says, smoke trailing from her mouth. She tries to relax and let her head fall, but tobacco is not enough to break her mind and forget about what she's done. 

“Come here,” Javier says, his hand on her knee. 

Letty turns and leans against his chest, his hand immediately going to her hair and neck. He cups some water and brings it to her breast, rubs her skin with the foam, kisses her temple. He passes his hand across her neck, with soap, and Letty closes her eyes at the caresses. 

He's affectionate, he takes care of her and it makes her heart swell and ache. Maybe he's afraid for her. Little things can make her melt - a substance in a spoon, or burnt crystals in a lightbulb - upset, sad or angry, a little bit of everything. 

Javier touches her throat, like he did the day they met, her carotide underneath his fingers. 

The ashes fall on the floor, floating in the puddle. Javier takes her cigarette from her and takes a drag.“Thank you,” he says, bringing the cigarette to her mouth. 

She looks at the smoke while thinking about what it entails. He's not talking about the cigarette, or the bubbles. It's about the bullet, about the gun she held, pointing at the back of his head, and when he didn't lower the rifle, she pulled the trigger. 

And as soon as his John Deere cap fell on the ground, Javier held Letty in his arms, turning her around, taking the gun from her, desperate to not let her see and resent herself. 

He took care of the bodies. 

Letty nods, holding his free hand in hers. She bites her lip to swallow down a sob, as heavy as a rock. Guilt is hard to kill. She's already picking at her nails. 

He kisses her neck and cheek, caresses her arms and holds her close. With two fingers, he turns her head for him to kiss her. It works better than wine and cigarettes. 

Javier looks at her, with his big brown eyes. He makes his words heavier when he repeats, “Thank you,” shaking his head as if to ask her if she understands what it means for a man like him to be thankful. 

Letty nods. 

She feels guilty but not regretful somehow. It was him or Javier. 

They stay until the water is cold and there are too many butts and empty bottles on the floor. Soon enough the morning will come, the pink light will turn into yellow, neon lights killed by the sun. They stumble out of the tub when Letty starts shaking. She kisses him again, and again, trying to take a bit of strength. 

She'll buy some dye tomorrow. She can't wear this blond wig. She can't wear the same dress or shoes. She wants to forget about the pink light, the stains. 

Letty lies down on the bed, looks at the bathroom door. Javier lies beside her, curling his body to fit against hers. Letty grabs his hand, holds it tight against her chest. He has killer hands, calloused, broad and warm. Now she has them too. 


End file.
